


Picking Fights

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Journeying the Realms [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Portal jumping, War, daddy killian, frozenswan friendship, kind of, mommy emma, princess bride crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9673022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: After picking a fight with Killian, Emma travels through a portal to visit her best friend, Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Killian, naturally, chases after her. Little do they know that Arendelle is on the brink of war. And - as Killian keeps frantically pointing out - Emma is pregnant. Eight months pregnant. With twins.Set in the universe of The Last Battle, but can be read alone.





	

              Killian Jones landed with a hard thud and a grunt. As common as portal jumping had become, you would think someone could figure out how to make it less . . . jarring. He’d have to talk to Jefferson and his seven year old daughter about that. For now, he had a wife to track down. A very irate wife. A very pregnant irate wife. He blinked his eyes at the late afternoon sun shimmering off the water. He wasn’t surprised he landed on an Arendelle beach. As he jumped through the portal, he had been thinking about their last trip here and the wonderful day they had spent on the beach with the Arendelle royals. Speaking of which, Emma had been stubbornly insistent on visiting her best friend. While pregnant. Eight months pregnant. With twins. Bloody hell, was his wife stubborn!

              Landing on the beach instead of near the castle wasn’t a surprise. Being tackled to the ground by Arendelle naval officers was. Killian cursed and tried to explain himself even while his face was being ground into the pebbly sand, but to no avail. His hook and cutlass were confiscated, his hands were bound behind his back, and he was now being marched into town surrounded by five royal guards.

              “My name is Killian Jones, and I am a personal friend of the Queen,” Killian continued trying to explain, “My family visits here often.”

              “Enough with your excuses,” a guard yelled, backhanding Killian across the cheek, “you showed up armed on our beach during a time of war.”

              “War!” Killian exclaimed in alarm, thinking frantically of Emma. Though he knew it was foolish and futile, he began once more to struggle with his bonds. “I must speak with Queen Elsa, please! My wife could be in danger!”

              The guards ignored him.

              “Come on! Surely you’ve heard of the Queen’s friendship with me. Kilian _Hook_ Jones?”

              “I have,” grumbled one, “but how do we know you’re the real Killian Jones?”

              Killian rolled his eyes, “I would think the appendage you cruelly took from me would be proof enough.”

              The naval officer – a lieutenant Killian guessed, based on his epaulets, though every kingdom differed – who arrested him, scoffed, “I’ve seen many a pirate with hooks in my day. You lot seem to lose your limbs quite frequently.”

              Killian couldn’t really argue with that. Stereotypes usually held a grain of truth, after all. The guards hauled him through the gates and into the royal courtyard. Killian hoped they would take him before the Queen, but knew that was unlikely. The dungeon was probably his destination. Sure enough, the guards shoved him to the left, away from the front steps of the palace. Out of the corner of his eye, Killian saw a flash of braided red hair. He had to take the chance.

              “Princess Anna!” he yelled, shoving his way through the circle of guards. He yelled the princess’s name one last time before he was tackled to the cobblestone.

              Anna, thankfully, recognized him instantly and ran to his side. “Killian! You poor thing! How did this happen? Get these ropes off him at once!” Anna scolded the guards, and Killian couldn’t help smirking. Once he was freed, Anna threw her arms around him. Killian threw one more smirk at the sheepish guards – he couldn’t help himself.

              Anna then demanded his hook be returned and then railed on the guards some more. “Do you know who this man is? He’s a Prince of Misthaven, and you’ve dragged him here like a criminal!”

              Killian _didn’t_ smirk at that. Instead, he blushed and glanced away. Every realm they travelled to, royals insisted on calling him a prince. He supposed, technically, that it was true, but he was still uncomfortable with it.

              “Oh my goodness, Killian, what are you doing here? I am _so_ sorry they arrested you. They’re just a little skittish, what with the kingdom of Florin’s entire navy heading this way. And my sister missing. I mean, I am _completely_ freaking out.”               Anna was ushering him inside as her words poured out at alarming speed. Killian put a hand to her arm to stop it.

              “Wait a minute,” he asked in concern, “you’re on the brink of war and Elsa is _missing_?”

              “Well, I wouldn’t use the word _war_ per se, more like tensions mounting between two kingdoms. My sister went to smooth things over, but she still hasn’t returned, and then suddenly we’ve got an entire battalion of ships heading our way. Is that why you’re here? Did Elsa call you and Emma for help or something?” Anna asked the question as she threw open the large double doors to the palace library where they could have more privacy.

              “I wish that were it,” Killian grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

              “Then why are you here?”

              “To bring Emma home. We . . .” Killian trailed off, wincing inwardly at the argument they’d had earlier that day, “disagreed about Emma coming to visit your sister.”

              “Why didn’t you want her to come?”

              “Because she’s eight months pregnant. With twins.”

              “Oh,” Anna said, her eyes widening, “OH! Oh, no!”

              “What’s wrong now?” a disgruntled voice asked from the doorway. Killian turned to see Kristoff enter the room, lines of stress creasing his forehead. He stopped suddenly when he saw their visitor. “Killian! What are you doing here?”

              “That’s what’s wrong,” Anna explained as Kristoff offered Killian a firm handshake. “Emma came to visit Elsa. And she’s pregnant.”

              “With twins,” Killian added. He knew he sounded ridiculous repeating the same old refrain, but Whale had emphasized that twins usually arrived early. Emma could go into labor at any moment. “You haven’t seen her anywhere?”

              “Not to our knowledge,” Kristoff answered, “but if she came through that portal thinking of Elsa, there’s no telling where she may have ended up. We haven’t seen or heard from Elsa since she left for Florin a month ago.”

              Killian paced, agitated, running his hand through his hair again. “Okay, why don’t you start from the beginning?”

              Anna shrugged, “There’s not much to tell. There were rumors of Florin planning an attack on our kingdom, so Elsa went on a diplomatic mission to negotiate peace. Weeks went by with us hearing nothing from her. Then yesterday scouts spotted an entire fleet of Florin ships on the horizon, flying the battle flag.” Anna rung her hands and paced as well. “I’m terrified for my sister, wondering what could have happened to her in Florin. What’s worse, I’m the Crown Princess and am supposed to be ruling in her absence. But I haven’t the slightest idea what to do!”

              “You must protect your borders, Anna!” Killian told her firmly, placing hand and hook on her shoulders. “That’s what your navy is trained for.”

              Tears sprung to Anna’s eyes, “But those are men’s lives we’re talking about! Elsa always said a ruler should do all she can to avoid war.”

              “Those men signed up for this, Anna. They know the cost. Believe me, I know.” Killian paced over to the window and watched the horizon. He guessed the Florin ships were only twelve hours from shore.

              “But you rebelled when your King made a wicked choice that could have cost innocent lives!”

              “And innocent lives is exactly what you’ll lose if Florin attacks!” Killian retorted, voice rising.

              “Don’t you think we know that?” Kristoff said calmly, putting an arm around his wife. “It’s why we sent our own boys away to safety. We know what happens to the royal family when a country is invaded.”

              A sob escaped from Anna’s throat as she turned to rest her head on Kristoff’s shoulder. Killian took a shaky breath to calm his nerves. He was looking at this from a military perspective; he knew nothing about leading a country. The weight on Anna must be unbearable. Killian chewed on his lower lip as he thought things through. What they all needed was time. Time to find Elsa and, hopefully, Emma too. Suddenly, it dawned on him.

              “Anna, I know what to do! You need to know exactly what happened in Florin, right?”

              Anna raised her head to look at Killian, her face mottled red. She simply nodded in the affirmative.

              “Send out your fastest ship to approach the Florin fleet and raise the black flag of parley. Then you can meet with a representative from Florin and get to the bottom of everything.”

              “No way,” Kristoff argued, “we can’t risk Anna’s safety sending her out there. We don’t know if we can trust Florin not to blow our ship out of the water.”

              “Of course we can’t risk Anna. One of the conditions of the parley will be for the representative to come here to the palace. And their navy _will_ honor the parley. There’s a code of war; they won’t break it. Even pirates honor the flag of parley.”

              A smile slowly filled Anna’s face. “That’s a great idea!” She ran forward and gave Killian a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a genius!”

              Killian smirked at Kristoff who just rolled his eyes. “I would have thought of it eventually,” he muttered.

                            *********************************************************

              The point of the entire plan was to buy them time, which meant Anna had to drag the parley out as long as possible. The hope was that the more time they had, the more likely Queen Elsa would be able to get word to her sister about her whereabouts. ( _And,_ Killian thought to himself, _Emma’s_.) Anna was pulling off that part of the plan brilliantly. When King Humperdink of Florin and his right hand man Count Rugen showed up at the palace for the parley, Anna had begun with a completely thorough tour of the castle, rambling on and on about every room. Who would have thought Anna’s constant chatter would be vital to saving her kingdom?

              Now Anna, Kristoff, and Killian were finishing up an eight course meal with Humperdink and Rugen. Finally, when she could stall no longer, Anna was forced to get down to business.

              “Princess Anna,” the King of Florin said as he wiped his mouth. The man’s voice dripped with disdain, and it made Killian’s skin crawl. “Let’s finally address the elephant in the room, shall we?”

              To her credit, Anna didn’t back down, but lifted her chin imperiously. “Yes, let’s. Beginning with what the hell happened to my sister.”

              Humperdink’s face turned red, but he restrained the rage in his voice, “You tell me, princess. There are two possibilities. Either your sister broke faith with my kingdom and fled, or she was kidnapped.”

              “If you don’t know what happened to her,” Killian snapped, “why are you amassing a fleet off Arrendelle’s coast?”

              Humperdink didn’t even glance Killian’s way. “Perhaps you should be wary, Princess Anna, who you associate with. One of our sources suggest that it was pirates who took off with my sweet Elsa. Perhaps your friend here knows more than he is saying.”

              “Yes, Killian is my friend. And my sister’s,” Anna snapped, putting her goblet down with a thud. “We would trust him with our lives. Moreover, he isn’t a pirate. He’s Prince Killian of Misthaven, and his wife, Crown Princess Emma of Misthaven, is missing as well. Probably with my sister.”

              Humperdink finally looked at Killian shrewdly. Killian couldn’t help smiling when the King seemed to dismiss him as a possible threat. Good. Killian liked to surprise people.

              “Wait,” Kristoff piped up, “back up a second. Did you call Elsa your . . . _sweet_?”

              “Yes, that I did,” Humperdink said with an overdramatic sigh, “I confess I have fallen madly in love with her. Elsa agreed to marry me to reconcile our kingdoms.”

              “My sister fell in love? With you?” Anna slapped a hand over her mouth, and Killian couldn’t help laughing. Humperdink shot a glare his way, but Killian only stared him down as he took a sip of wine.

              “No, your sister did not fall in love with me,” Humperdink continued, quickly masking his scowl. “I assured her she would grow to love me. She finally saw that our marriage would be advantageous. A contract was signed, and messengers were sent to announce the happy engagement. But about a week ago, Elsa went out for a ride and never returned.”

              “And that’s why your entire navy is heading for Arrendele’s shores?” Killian bit out. Something wasn’t adding up.

              “I confess, I wasn’t thinking clearly. A note was found in Elsa’s handwriting, saying she couldn’t go through with the marriage. But it was written in a shaky hand, as if she had been forced to do it under duress.”

              “And you said something about pirates?” Killian snapped, his eyes narrowed.

              “There were reports that she had been seen at the docks, being taken aboard a pirate ship. One of the men with her wore clothing of this realm,” Humperdink stood abruptly after that, tossing his linen napkin onto his plate. He shook his finger at each of them, “Either Arendelle has broken trust with Florin or someone in this kingdom has stolen my bride. You return her for an immediate wedding aboard my ship or we attack. You have until dusk tomorrow.”

              With that, Humperdink and Rugen stormed out of the palace, slamming the dining hall door with resounding force.

              “Well,” Kristoff remarked with a roll of his eyes, “it bought us time. A little of it, anyway.”

              Anna slumped back in her chair, shaking her head. “My sister would _never_ agree to marry that pompous windbag.”

              “Of course she wouldn’t,” Killian readily agreed, “and if Emma were here, her super power would be on high alert. Everything out of that man’s mouth was a lie.”

              “You don’t think he . . .”Anna whispered, leaning across the table towards Killian. Fear filled her eyes, and she swallowed, changing her words at the last minute, “did something to Elsa?”

              Killian smiled, glad he could put the fears Anna couldn’t voice to rest. “No, Anna, your sister is alive and well. Not only that, she’s here in Arendale.”

              “How do you know?” Anna asked, her eyes wide.

              “Because when you love someone, you know,” Killian told her softly, “and right now, I know Emma is nearby. That means Elsa is, too.”

***************************************************

**A Few Hours Earlier**

              Emma Jones landed with a hard thud and a grunt. She ran a hand over her swollen abdomen, concerned that travel through the portal had harmed her unborn twins. She felt a series of powerful kicks and laughed. She should have known. They were Joneses, after all.

              Only after assuring herself that the babies were fine did Emma realize she was cold. And wet. She struggled to her feet only to find herself up to her calves in snow. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. It had been late summer in Storybrooke. It was _supposed_ to be late summer here, too. Emma turned around in a circle to take in her surroundings. Behind her, perched atop a high summit was a castle made of shimmering ice. The north mountain. Of course. There was always snow here.

              Emma trudged towards the bottom of the ice staircase and yelled Elsa’s name. There was no way she was risking those slick steps eight months pregnant. Emma yelled and yelled until she was hoarse. Then she reached out with her magic; no, Elsa wasn’t here. Emma shivered and began making her way down the mountain, inwardly cursing her swollen pregnant ankles. She loved wearing boots and would be wearing them now if not for her stupid cankles. The snow was steadily seeping into her sneakers, and a shard of fear sliced through her. She remembered her fight with Killian before she had marched out of the house, slamming the door behind her. _It’s not all about you, Swan!_ Killian had thundered during their argument. _You have the twins to think about!_ Emma pressed her lips together tightly and willed herself not to cry. If Killian hadn’t been so stubborn, her mind wouldn’t have been such a hormonal mess when she came through the portal. It didn’t mean he had been right. Nope. Not at all.

              Emma wasn’t sure how long she had been struggling through the snow, but it felt like forever. She started feeling the same way she had when she had been trapped behind the ice wall. All she longed to do was lie down and sleep. Emma fell to her knees in exhaustion, but the swift kicks of the little lives inside her forced her back to her feet. She tried to take a step, but stumbled. Her feet felt like two blocks of ice. Her eyelids began to droop, but not before she saw a horse with two figures atop it heading her way.

              “Elsa!” she croaked out, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate.

              “Emma!” Elsa cried racing to her friend’s side. “Westley! Come help me get her on the horse!”

              The man Elsa had been addressing came and put a strong, muscular arm around Emma and began to help her to her feet. “She’s heavy with child,” he informed Elsa with concern.

              “Emma!” Elsa exclaimed in awe, placing a hand to her friend’s womb.

              Emma shivered through lips that were almost blue and attempted to laugh. “A l-lot has ch-changed since my f-family were here a y-year ago.”

              Westley managed to get Emma on the horse then swung up behind her. He reached a hand down to pull Elsa up as well, but the Queen shook her head.

              “Riding down will be too slow. I’ll have to use my magic.”

              Then Elsa closed her eyes and concentrated on the idyllic farm and quaint stone cabin that held so many wonderful memories for her. Light blue smoke enveloped her, the horse, and the two people atop it. When it cleared, the group was in the warmth of the sunny valley, next to the stables on Westley’s farm. They got Emma inside the cabin as quickly as they could and Westley got a roaring fire going, despite the warm summer day. Elsa conjured up a hot chocolate just the way Emma liked it, and Emma reached for it eagerly through the pile of blankets her best friend had piled on top of her.

              “Emma,” Elsa asked once her friend had thawed out enough, “what in the world are you doing here? And so close to when your baby is sure to arrive?”

              Emma smiled as she felt her babies moving around inside of her, “Babies, plural. I’m having twins.”

              “Twins!” Elsa exclaimed, reaching out to touch Emma’s stomach again in awe. “They come early, don’t they? Killian let you come?”

              Emma shook her hair out of her face with an air of smugness, “Killian doesn’t have to _let_ me. I’m a grown woman with a mind of my own.”

              Emma sighed as she saw Elsa’s eyebrows raise. She looked down quickly and began to pick nervously at a loose thread in the quilt across her lap. Westley came in to stoke the fire, giving Elsa an intimate smile.

              “Westley, can you get Emma some water?” Elsa asked, “She doesn’t need to get dehydrated in her condition.”

              Westley’s blonde hair fell across his forehead as he nodded, an intensity in the gaze of his blue eyes. “As you wish,” he told Elsa softly, then slipped out of the room.

              Emma’s jaw dropped, “Westley, Elsa? Seriously?”

              “What?” Elsa asked, a bit defensively.

              Emma shook her head and chuckled, “You and I are more kindred spirits than I ever thought. Me with my pirate and you with your farm boy named Westley.”

              “What do you mean?”

              “Elsa, come on! I have eyes. I see the way you two look at each other. You’re in love with him! Now, spill it!”

              A blush filled Elsa’s cheeks, confirming Emma’s suspicions. “I met him a year ago this October,” Elsa began, pulling Emma’s quilt over to cover her own lap as well, “he came to the palace requesting an audience with me. The guards didn’t want to let him in, but Anna happened to see the commotion and got him in to see me. His story broke my heart.”

              Elsa gazed in to the fire for a moment before continuing, “Westley’s father died when he was young. His mother remarried when he was older, and had another child. But she died in childbirth. Just a few months later, Westley’s stepfather died too, of a fever. Westley was left to raise his baby sister all on his own. Magdalen was her name.”

              “Was?”

              Elsa nodded sadly. “That’s why he came to see me. Magdalen was ten and had become very ill. The doctors said she wouldn’t make it to Christmas. Magdalen’s last wish was to celebrate one last Christmas with Westley. She wanted to ice skate, build a snowman, drink hot chocolate, and decorate the tree.”

              “So Westley wanted you to use your magic to give Magdalen an early Christmas.”

              Elsa nodded, tears filling her eyes. “How could I refuse? So I came out here to their farm. Anna, Kristoff, and their boys came too. We had the most wonderful time. Even though she was very sick, Magdalen was a sweet and joyous child. And Westley loved and cared for her so tenderly. They had so little and Westley was so busy with the farm, I kept visiting. I made sure Magdalen was as comfortable as possible. She passed away in early November. It was so hard on Westley. My heart broke seeing him grieve like that.”

              “So you kept coming here. To see him.”

              Elsa nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. “I told myself it was to ensure that he wasn’t alone in his grief, but I honestly looked forward to our visits. We would talk and talk for hours, about everything. Westley had chores to do on the farm, but I never wanted to rush our visits, so I would help. Or sit nearby while he worked. I couldn’t admit it to myself at the time, but I was falling in love with him.”

              “And he with you,” Emma said softly.

              “Yes,” Elsa chuckled, “but I couldn’t see that, either. Every time I came here, we talked, but I still felt like Westley was so formal with me. Whenever I asked him for anything, he would always say, _As you wish_ , like I was ordering him about.”

              “When what he really meant was _I love you_ ,” Emma supplied. Elsa looked up, eyes wide with surprise, and Emma chuckled. “There’s a movie.”

              Elsa rolled her eyes, “Seriously?”

              “Yes, but Killian also says it too. Go on with your story.”

              Elsa’s gaze seemed far away as she started talking again, “Then one day, we got into an argument. Looking back, I sort of picked the fight . . . “

              _Elsa stomped and scraped her feet on the wooden stoop outside the farmhouse door. It was the middle of March, and the last of the melted snow had turned the land into a soup of mud. She didn’t want to track any of it into Westley’s home. It always amazed her how a bachelor kept his abode so neat and tidy. As usual, Westley regarded her with his intense blue eyes and a soft hello when he opened the door. She used to think Westley was shy, but that wasn’t true at all. He simply didn’t waste time on unnecessary words. Talking to him was easy and natural for Elsa._

_Westley ushered her in with a hand to the small of her back, and his touch sent a warmth all through her as it always did. He helped her remove her cloak and hung it on a hook by the door. Elsa removed her gloves, and Westley asked her, as usual, if she wanted anything._

_“Tea would be nice, thank you,” Elsa requested politely._

_“As you wish,” Westley said with a slight bow of his head._

_Elsa didn’t know why, but his words today were like a slap in the face. Would he ever see her as a friend? Or would she always just be his queen? Elsa stood, suddenly feeling antsy and began to pace the room. She had never thought about it, but did Westley feel like he had no choice but to entertain her? He had never asked for her to visit, and he had never sought her out. Elsa pressed her hands to her heated cheeks as embarrassment washed over her. With Westley it was always_ As you wish. _How could she have been so stupid? He was only humoring her because she was the queen!_

_Elsa suddenly felt ashamed and humiliated. With shaking hands she slipped her hands back into her gloves and retrieved her cloak from the wall. She was reaching for the door when Westley returned with the tea tray._

_“Is something wrong, Elsa?” he asked with concern._

_“No, no,” Elsa answered in a shaky voice, her back still to Westley, “I just – I have to go.” Then she pushed the door open and rushed out._

_Westley followed after her at a fast jog. He grasped her by the elbow and spun her around, “What have I done, your highness? Have I offended you?”_

Your highness _was a dagger to Elsa’s heart. “No, you’ve done nothing. Just, please get my horse.”_

_“As you wish.”_

_With that, the dam of Elsa’s emotions broke, “No!” she shouted after him, marching forward and shoving past him. “I’ll get my own horse.”_

_But Westley wouldn’t let her go so easily. He stepped in her path, blocking her way to the stable. “Look at me, Elsa, in the eye. What is going on?”_

_“Oh, so it’s Elsa now? Not_ your majesty _?”_

_Westley shook his head, “Am I not allowed to call you Elsa? Is that it?”               “I don’t know,” Elsa shouted, “Is it?” She knew she wasn’t making sense, but she couldn’t seem to rein in her emotions. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to receive me as your guest. I’m not ordering you to be my friend, you know.”_

_Tears slipped down Elsa’s cheeks, to her great shame. Westley took her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him. “I’ve never felt that way, Elsa. Ever.”_

_The intensity of his gaze took Elsa’s breath away, and inexplicable fear suddenly gripped her heart. He was looking into her eyes as if he really, truly, saw her. Memories of all the years she spent trying to hide who she really was came flooding back. If she let him in, he wouldn’t like what he saw. She was sure of it. “Let me go, Westley.”_

_His hand fell to his side, but he still pierced her with those blue eyes. “As you wish,” he said softly._

_Elsa felt herself overcome by the emotions she saw on Westley’s face. He stepped forward and leaned towards her, so close she could feel his breath against her cheek. Once again, he whispered, “As you wish.” There was no mistaking now what he meant by that. Her breathing came fast and quick, and before she even knew what she was doing, she closed the remaining distance between them and pressed her lips to his._

_Westley responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He slanted his mouth over hers to deepen the kiss, and Elsa felt her knees go weak. She pulled back, breathing hard, and Westley chased her lips. She stumbled backwards, pushing against his chest a bit._

_“I . . . I have to go.”_

_Elsa quickly saddled her horse and raced away. The last thing she heard Westley say before she galloped away was, “As you wish.”_

              “Well, I know a thing or two about picking fights,” Emma said wryly as Elsa finished that part of the story.

              The queen narrowed her eyes at Emma, “Is that what happened with you and Killian? Is that why you’re here without him?”

              Emma waved off Elsa’s questions. “Later, your story is just getting good. Keep going.”

              _Two weeks later, Elsa stood outside the door of the farmhouse, nervously twisting the edge of her cloak in her hands. Westley’s eyes widened as he swung the door open._

_“I wasn’t sure if you would ever come back.”_

_“Am I too late? Have I ruined everything? Or can I come in?”_

_A grin filled Westley’s face as he swung the door open wide, “As you wish. . . **Elsa**.”_

_The door had scarcely closed behind him when Elsa fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. When they parted, panting, Westley was smiling again, his blue eyes sparkling. Elsa reached up and brushed his blonde hair off his forehead. He grasped her gloved hand and kissed her palm. He then gently took the tip of one of the fingers of her glove in his teeth and tugged it off her hand, his gaze never leaving hers._

              “Wait just a second,” Emma interrupted, “he took your glove off with his _teeth_?”

              Elsa blushed furiously and covered her face with both hands.

              Emma laughed, “You and I are _way_ too much alike. So what happened next?”

              “Well,” Elsa hedged, “let’s just say we didn’t do much talking that day.”

              Emma wiggled her eyebrows at her friend just like she knew Killian would do. Thinking about her husband made her feel a sharp pang of guilt – and a sharp pang of something else. Emma gasped and put a hand to her abdomen.

              “Are you alright?” Elsa asked in concern.

              Emma took a deep breath and nodded. “Just Braxton hicks – false contraction. I’ve been having them for a few days now. Go on with your story.”

              “After that, I came as often as I could get away . . .”

              _“I love you, Elsa,” Westley gasped as he lay on top of her._

_“I love you, too,” she told him, pressing a kiss to his lips._

_Westley brushed her hair back from her sweaty forehead and cupped her face with his hand. Elsa’s hands traced lazily down his bare back as his adoring gaze searched her face._

_“Marry me,” Elsa blurted out. Her eyes went wide, and she bit her lip, unsure how he would react._

_He frowned down at her, then rolled away to sit on the edge of the bed. Elsa scooted close, running her fingers through his hair and kissing his bare shoulder. Was he pulling away from her?_

_“I’m supposed to ask that, Elsa,” he said dejectedly. He turned to look at her with sad eyes. “And I’m supposed to get down on one knee and have a beautiful ring for you. A ring worthy of a queen. But I’m just a farm boy, Elsa. A poor farm boy.”_

_Elsa sighed with relief. She placed a hand to his cheek and turned his face to look at her, “You’re perfect, Westley. And I don’t need anything but you.”_

_A smile lit up his face then and he kissed her passionately, easing her back down onto the bed. As he trailed kisses down her neck, Elsa giggled, “Is that a yes?”_

_He pulled back and smiled down at her teasingly. “Well, your highness, if you’re asking me, shouldn’t_ you _have a ring?”_

_Elsa smirked at him, pushing him off her. She got up, pulling the sheets around her, and walked over to her cloak that was hanging on the wall. She reached into the cloak’s pocket, retrieved something, and walked back to Westley who was sitting on the bed, watching her curiously. Elsa knelt in front of him, holding the object out to him with one hand, and clutching the sheet around her with the other._

_“Westley, perfect farm boy, will you marry me?”_

_Westley looked at the item in the palm of Elsa’s hand, speechless. He picked it up reverently, and when he finally spoke, it was in a hoarse whisper, “Your royal signet ring? Elsa! I can’t accept this.”_

_Elsa closed his fingers over the ring, “I’m queen. I can give it to whomever I wish. Now answer the question.”_

_He stood and pulled Elsa to her feet, “Yes, Elsa, I will marry you.”_

_Elsa threw her arms around his neck, letting the sheet fall to the floor._

              “Wow, Elsa,” Emma said, clearing her throat, “that’s, uh, not a proposal story you’ll be able to tell your kids.”

              Elsa was the reddest Emma had ever seen her, but she also had a dreamy look on her face.

              “So, what are you two doing out her on Westley’s farm? Shouldn’t you be back at the palace planning a royal wedding?”

              Elsa’s face fell, but before she could answer, Westley came rushing into the cabin from outside. He hastily set a pitcher of water down on the table beside Emma.

              “Sorry it took me so long to get the water, my love, but trouble is heading this way.”

              Elsa leapt from her spot on the couch beside Emma, “Is it Humperdink?”

              Westley nodded grimly, “I believe so. I saw riders cresting the hill from the east. They wore Florin colors.”

              Emma rose from the couch as quickly as she could in her condition, “I’m sorry, did you just say Humperdink?”

              “Yes, why?” Elsa asked.

              “Like I said, there’s a movie. And let me guess, this guy is trying to force you to marry him?”               Westley’s jaw dropped, “How did she know that?”

              Elsa grasped Emma’s hands in hers, “That’s why we were heading up to the north mountain when we found you. We were going to hide there, cloaked by my magic.”

              Emma groaned, “But you had to help me instead.”

              Elsa hugged Emma tightly, “It’s okay, Emma. It’s not your fault.”

              Westley pulled a sword from over the fireplace mantel and strode to the door. Elsa raced to his side to try and stop him.

              “Westley, you can’t! There are too many!”

              “But the two of you have magic,” Westley argued, gesturing at the two women, “you can cover me.”

              “Don’t count on that,” Emma moaned.

              “Why not?” Elsa asked in alarm.

              “Because my water just broke.”

                            *********************************************************

              Emma collapsed against Elsa’s side as another contraction shook her, but she had successfully cast the protection spell around the cabin. Elsa had placed one around the perimeter of the farm. Between the two, Florin’s knights should be kept at bay. Unless someone in their ranks had magic. Emma wouldn’t let herself consider that possibility; no sense borrowing trouble. She had more pressing matters to think about.

              Elsa helped Emma to the bed, where she curled in on herself until the pain ebbed. She also wouldn’t allow herself to think of Killian, of how badly she wanted him here with her. It was her own stubbornness that led her here after all.

              Westley brought blankets, towels, and a basin of hot water. His face was flushed as he muttered an apology and fled the room.

              “His mother died in childbirth, remember?” Elsa explained. The queen’s eyes instantly grew wide, “I shouldn’t have brought that up. Emma, I’m sorry.”

              Emma sighed as the contraction passed and managed a wobbly laugh, “It’s okay, Elsa. I understand why Westley left the room. And I know it’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve given birth in a cabin on the brink of a battle.”

              Elsa nodded and smiled in return. Emma bit her bottom lip and glanced away from her best friend. She was putting on a brave face, but in truth, a sliver of fear was creeping into her heart. Twins were rarely born without some kind of complication, and she was in a realm where childbirth was dangerous. At least in Storybrooke, there was a hospital nearby. She and little Elsa could have been rushed there if anything had happened. Here, that wasn’t an option. Emma drew her knees up as another contraction seized her.

              “God, I forgot how much these hurt without an epidural!” she gasped out.

              “What’s an epidural?”

              “Only the greatest medical invention in the history of mankind,” Emma panted out as the contraction passed. She wondered what this birth meant for the personality of these twins. Because seven year old Elsa definitely had the personality of someone born in the midst of a battle with fire breathing dragons and wizards. And her sweet tempered Liam was of course the one born in the calming environment of the maternity ward with the aid of an epidural.

              “Those two contractions were a lot closer together,” Elsa told her, glancing at the grandfather clock ticking in the corner.

              Emma nodded, pressing her lips together, “Yes, we should probably get everything ready.”

              Elsa helped her remove the leggings underneath her maternity dress and then spread towels on the bed. The queen also propped pillows behind Emma’s back until she was comfortable. The straw they were stuffed with poked Emma in the back, but since it was the least of her discomforts, she ignored it.

              Emma labored for another hour before she felt the urge to push. Her cries were mingled with shouts from outside. The ground shook and sparks lit up outside the cabin window.

              “What the hell was that?” Emma panted.

              “Don’t worry about that right now,” Elsa told her. She locked her gaze on Emma’s, “keep your eyes on me, take a deep breath, and push again.”

              Emma nodded and did as Elsa asked, pushing as hard as she could. She fell back against the pillows, realizing that she didn’t have the energy she normally would have because of her trek through the freezing snow.

              “I can see the baby’s head, Emma!” Elsa said excitedly, “On three, push again. One, two, three, push!”

              Emma pushed and screamed as the baby crowned. She pushed for another fifteen minutes, before her first twin entered the world with a wailing cry.

              “It’s a girl!” Elsa exclaimed, tears coming down her own cheeks as she gave the squirming bundle to Emma.

              “Leia,” Emma whispered as she stroked the wailing baby’s cheek, “Killian and I decided to name her Leia.” The thought of her husband caused a tear to slip down Emma’s cheek.

              “She’s beautiful, Emma,” Elsa breathed.

              “She is,” Emma gasped, “but you need to get Westley to take her because the next baby is coming. Now!”

              Elsa called for Westley, and he was at her side in a moment. He nodded in silence when Elsa explained and took the baby girl gingerly from Emma. “I’ll take her into Magdalen’s old room. There are still some of Magdalen’s baby things in her trunk.”

              Elsa moved around to the end of the bed, ready to receive the next baby. Emma felt tears coming faster and she shook her head, “I can’t do it, Elsa. I can’t do it again.”

              “Yes, you can, Emma, you have to.”

              “I need Killian,” Emma said softly. She squeezed her eyes shut tight as tears pooled at the corners. She had never been the type of woman who needed a man. But with Killian, it was different. Needing him didn’t mean she was weak. He just made everything better. They may not physically share a heart, but they made each other whole. And in this moment, she had never needed him more. Why had she been so foolish to pick a fight and then run?

              Elsa came around the bed to hold Emma’s hand, “Emma, look at me.” When Emma turned her way, Elsa smiled and squeezed her hand, “Remember those yellow ribbons Ingrid put on us?”

              Emma nodded wordlessly, pressing her lips together as the urge to push surged through her. But she was afraid.

              “They bound us together as sisters, but we didn’t need them. You and I are kindred spirits, just like you said. You’re just as much my sister as Anna is. I’m here for you, Emma. You’re strong. You can do this!”

              Emma nodded and whispered, “Okay.” She finally succumbed to her body’s urge and pushed with all her might. The second twin was smaller than the first, and it only took pushing for five minutes for him to enter the world.

              “Charlie,” Emma breathed as she accepted the second bundle.

              “Charlie?” Elsa asked, “That’s such a cute name.”

              “Well, Charles, actually, but we’re going to call him Charlie.”

              Westley brought Leia back and took Charlie to clean and dress him as well. Her baby girl rooted around until Emma put her to the breast, but she only suckled for a moment before falling asleep. Emma examined every tiny finger and toe until Westley brought Charlie back. He did the same as his sister, and then Emma relaxed against the bed, a baby nestled in each arm. Elsa offered to take at least one to put in Magdalen’s old cradle, but Emma shook her head no. She was exhausted, but she wasn’t letting either baby go for a moment.

              Just as Emma felt her eyes fluttering closed, there were shouts and the clanging of metal outside the cabin door. Before Elsa could stop him, Westley raced outside, sword in hand.

              “Stay with Emma and the babies!” he ordered before slamming the door shut behind him.

              Elsa turned and looked at Emma sheepishly. Emma smiled, “So, he gets to order the queen around, huh?”

              Elsa shrugged, “When I let him.”

              Westley wasn’t gone long before the door came flying open again.

              “Swan!”

              Emma didn’t think Killian had ever looked so wonderful to her hungry eyes. He stood in the doorway, panting from battle, his cutlass still in his hand. He was absolutely beautiful.

              “I swear to every deity in every realm, Swan, that you are going to be the death of me.”

              He only took two steps forward before realizing what he was seeing. His mouth fell open and his cutlass clattered to the floor. Emma narrowed her eyes at him, but she couldn’t help the smile that teased the corner of her mouth.

              “Killian Jones, you know full well I have _never_ found that expression funny.”

              “Emma,” he breathed as he sank to the floor beside the bed, “they’re here.” He reached his shaking hand out in wonder as he reverently stroked first one downy head and then the other.

              Emma gestured to her right arm, “Killian, meet your daughter Leia Snow Jones, and your son, Charles David Jones.”

              “I know their eyes are closed,” Elsa spoke up from the corner, “but your daughter has your eyes and your son has Emma’s.”

              Killian swallowed hard, and his jaw clenched. Emma knew he was fighting to control his emotions. “Oh, Emma,” he finally muttered, wrapping his arms around all three of them as best he could and burying his face in Emma’s neck. She buried her face in the softness of his hair and she knew there was no need to apologize for the argument they had had.

              “Wow!” someone exclaimed from the doorway, “What a rush!” It was Anna, who stood there panting, looking down at the sword in her hand.

              Killian rose from the bed, sharing a smile with Emma.

              “Didn’t you teach my dad how to sword fight?” Emma asked with a laugh.

              “Yeah, I did,” Anna said hefting the sword she held, “but I’ve never actually fought in a battle with a sword. It was exhilarating!”

              “Well, I prefer it to be the first _and_ last time,” said Kristoff as he entered the room and enveloped his wife in a fierce hug. “I prefer our children to grow up with a mother, thank you very much.”

              “I second that,” Killian quipped, raising an eyebrow at Emma. Okay, so maybe their fight wasn’t _completely_ forgotten, but she could tell from his smile that he was just teasing her.

              “Westley!” Elsa cried, almost tackling the next figure who entered the room. Anna and Kristoff’s eyes widened as Elsa kissed him passionately. She turned to her sister with a huge smile on her face. “Ann, Kristoff, I would like you to meet Westley. My fiancé.”

              Anna’s mouth hung open and the room was awkwardly quiet for a moment. Elsa had failed to mention when telling her story that her relationship with Westley had been a secret.

              “Well,” Kristoff finally said, breaking the silence, “guess it’s good your _other_ fiancé is in the dungeon.”

                             ***************************************************

              Emma rose from the rocking chair and deposited a sleeping Leia gently in her cradle. She then turned to a fussing Charlie and moved with him back towards the rocking chair. Killian watched her from the doorway, admiring the way the pale blue dress Elsa had loaned her gave his wife an ethereal look. The sunlight that poured through the chamber window illuminated Emma’s hair, which hung braided across her shoulder. She settled into the rocking chair, singing a soft lullaby to baby Charlie as she began nursing him. He was the only person who ever heard Emma sing; her voice was soft and gentle, like a zephyr at sea. Emma looked up and a wide, contented smile filled her face when she saw him.

              “How are you feeling love?” he asked as he entered the room.

              Emma sighed as she gently moved the rocking chair with her toe, “Physically, I feel much better today.” They had been in Arendelle for a week now. Partly for the wedding and partly because Emma needed to recover from childbirth. And Emma couldn’t lie, recovering from twins was much tougher. Today was the first day she had felt like herself. Killian had been wonderful, though. All Emma had to do was rest and nurse the twins. Killian did everything else; changing them, bathing them, pacing the floors with them when nothing would soothe them. And to think he ever doubted he could be a good father!

              “So physically you’re fine,” Killian repeated raising his eyebrows at her, “and otherwise?”

              Emma gave him a knowing smile. He knew her so well. “I miss the children. And I really want to get back to the modern world and disposable diapers.”

              Killian chuckled and shook his head teasingly, “What do you care about diapers? I’ve been handling that unpleasant chore.”

              “Yes, you have,” Emma said, kissing his cheek as she rose from the rocking chair, “and I love you for it.” She put a sleeping Charlie in his cradle, brushing a fingertip across the dark tuft of hair that covered his head.

              “Emma love,” Killian said, nervously scratching behind his ear, “can we talk about . . . the argument we had back in Storybrooke? I still don’t quite understand it. One moment, we were preparing the nursery, and the next we were shouting at each other. What did I say? What did I do?”

              Emma dropped her eyes to her hands that she was twisting in front of her. “We were talking about the twins arriving and how different it would be having two newborns. And then you said you were sure of one thing. That the babies already had a wonderful mother.”

              Killian’s brow furrowed in confusion, “So you picked a fight with me because I said you’re a wonderful mother? Why would you do that, love?”

              Emma paced a few times, then fell with a plop into the rocking chair, slouching backwards. “Because I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, Killian! A million times a day I think that I suck at being a mother. I let them eat too much junk food, I let them watch too much TV, I buy them too much, or I don’t give them enough. Or they talk back to Granny or Elsa gets into a fight at school.” The tears were coming now as Emma listed all her perceived failures. “Not to mention how I held Elsa back with her magic. All because I was afraid.”

              Killian smiled tenderly at her as he knelt beside her chair, taking her hand in his, “Emma, everyone struggles with those feelings and doubts. God knows I have. And do you know who has helped me the most with my doubts and fears as a father?”

              Emma shook her head, and Killian smiled as if she ought to know.

              “Your parents. Think of all the regrets they have about having to give you up. All the fears they struggle with as they raise Neal. But I think all of Storybrooke would award them mother and father of the year if they could. Your father always tells me that if I’m worried about messing up, it shows I must be doing something right. Or I wouldn’t care so much.”

              But the best advice came from your mother, Emma. She asked me if I told them I loved them every day. She asked if I showered them with hugs and kisses. When I told her yes, she just smiled and said, _then you’re doing it right_.”

              Killian traced the apple of Emma’s cheek, and she leaned into his touch. “I know what you’re thinking, Emma,” he continued, “you’re thinking it can’t be that easy. But I ask you, Emma, what did you and I crave the most growing up as orphans?”

              Emma’s eyes grew large as realization dawned. She swallowed hard before answering. “Hugs, kisses, and someone to say _I love you_ ,” she whispered in a watery voice.

              Emma allowed him to gather her in his arms, “See? You’re doing it right, love.” Emma sighed against his shoulder, and with the exhalation of breath felt her fears and worries drift away. She knew there would be tough days ahead and plenty of other moments when she would doubt herself. But her mother’s words to Killian could be her anchor in those stormy moments.

              Killian pulled away from her, took her hand in his, and helped her to her feet. “Dry your tears, love, and leave the wee ones to the castle nurse. Your best friend needs her maid of honor.”

              “She’s got two,” Emma laughed.

              Killian shrugged, “One can never have enough friends.”

              “Oh really?” Emma asked, her eyebrow arching at her husband.

              He scratched sheepishly behind his ear, “Well, that’s something else your mother always says.”

              Killian offered Emma his arm as he escorted her from the room.

              “I had no idea you gleaned so much wisdom from my mother,” Emma teased.

              “Oh, her majesty is a vast wealth of wisdom. Her hope speeches are quite rousing you know,” Killian’s blue eyes sparkled as he regarded Emma, “She actually gave me one right before I chased you here.”

              “She did?”

              “Aye,” Killian said, a note of mischief in his voice, “she told me we only pick fights with people when we know for sure that they’ll never stop loving us.”

              Emma rolled her eyes as he planted a kiss to her cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> * Here, finally, is the next story in this series! I knew what I wanted to do, but my muse hit a wall with two things. One was that I wanted to give Elsa a love story, but it took me forever to figure out who her true love would be. Most in the fandom pair her with Liam, but this story follows canon in that regard. (i.e. Liam is dead) I couldn't think of anyone in current canon that she would have good chemistry with, so I knew I needed to introduce a new character. It took me forever to come up with a believable love story for her. The breakthrough came when I decided to make it mirror Emma's love story somehow, since she and Elsa have that sisterly bond. I first tried to think of a pirate for her to fall for, but Elsa just doesn't seem like that type. That's when it hit me - Emma has Westley the pirate, but what about Westley the farm boy? Having Elsa fall in love with the farm boy also solved my second problem. I had planned all along for Emma and Killian to land smack in the middle of a crisis, and the storyline finally provided me with one.  
> * I was originally going to explain how Westley rescued Elsa, but it didn't seem to fit, nor did it seem necessary. If you're dying to know, just ask me in the comments, and I'll explain. It's actually part of the reason I had Elsa give Westley her signet ring.  
> * I also needed a reason for Emma to go to Arendelle alone (so Elsa could deliver the twins), so I needed her to get into a fight with Killian. The inspiration for the cause of their fight was the movie Mom's Night Out when Sean Astin's character wishes his wife happy Mother's Day. She responds, "Don't celebrate me because I suck at this!" As a mom myself, I struggle with self-doubt, and I know lots of moms do, no matter how many kids they have. It makes sense that Emma would doubt herself since she didn't grow up with a mother. And I think the idea of impending twins would cause anyone to freak out a little!  
> * The advice that Snow gives to Killian about showering your kids with hugs and kisses is verbatim advice that was given to me by an older and wiser mom (and grandma!). It's advice I have clung to on my worst days!  
> * The next story in this series will take place on the beanstalk. Feisty Elsa will be back in all her glory, getting herself and her siblings into some trouble!  
> * Again, if you have any prompt ideas for this series, I am open to them! So if there's a place you want the Jones family to visit, give those prompts to me in the comments.


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